


sweeter than honey

by sylvainplath



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, M/M, Pet Names, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvainplath/pseuds/sylvainplath
Summary: Dimitri tries to find the perfect term of endearment for Sylvain. Hilda assists him.Written for Dimivain exchange.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Marianne von Edmund, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	sweeter than honey

**Author's Note:**

> My dimivain exchange piece for Nia in the dimivain server. She requested Dimitri trying to find pet names for Sylvain and ending with. Well, what you'll see at the end.

“I’ll see you, sweetheart,” Sylvain says, kissing Dimitri briefly.

He leaves Dimitri at the entrance to his private courtyard, where a servant has just set two teapots down onto the table. He’s waiting for Marianne, who had arrived in Fhirdiad last night. She was exhausted, and Dimitri meant to have someone show her to her room, but she insisted on settling her horse away for the night first. Then he had made her tea personally and sent her and Hilda to bed. 

This morning he sits in the courtyard waiting for Marianne. She came to see him; he is her dearest friend. He had two types of tea made for them. Marianne dislikes fussing, so he offers no more than two. There are pastries at the table and hot eggs, meats and greens. The section of the courtyard he has chosen is full of winter blooms, flowers unique to Faerghus. Tiny birds flit about despite the cold months, their nests settled deep inside the trees, their feathers soft colors. This location is for Marianne, of course. Animals love her. She is even able to coax the terribly timid deer out of the bushes to care for them.

Dimitri finds the chill in the air purifying. Marianne has learned to feel peace out here, too. 

So Dimitri waits for her, anxiously clenching his fists. His knees yearn to bounce, but he has been trained not to. A king must never display his troubles. He practices deep breathing and soothes himself with the thought that he might tell Marianne about his worries, and she will smile, small and sweetly at him, and support him.

* * *

Marianne slips through the entrance with slightly more confidence than she has around most people, her Golden Deer and Dimitri exceptions. Dimitri pulls her chair away from the table, kisses her hands like he would’ve kissed his mother or sister’s. When he had a mother and a sister. She settles herself in a chair, white metal carved with flowers and animals, smoothing her skirts. Her cheeks glow with contentment, a sweet trade for her school days when in place of her vibrant health, her neck was always sunken and her eye bags were ghostly. Her hair is down, vibrant flowers braided loosely into her hair.

“Marianne,” Dimitri says. “You look beautiful! I rarely see your hair like this.”

Marianne giggles, her cheeks flushing. She covers her mouth with her palm. “Thank you, Dimitri. The first thing Hilda did when she woke up was buy flowers. She said it was worth the trip just to see them.”

Marianne grabs one pot, the chamomile, before Dimitri can, so she can pour him a cup full. She grabs the other pot and pours for herself, while Dimitri hastily serves her food in return.

“How have you been, Dimitri?” Marianne asks him.

“I have been well,” he tells her, truthfully. She smiles.

They speak of their lives recently, about Marianne’s recent affinity for public speaking (which is not so recent - he has watched her toil and suffer to develop her skill). They talk about her wedding, and about what Hilda is doing, how Claude’s doing in Almyra. Marianne has been there and has plenty of stories to tell about the animals there, who love her just as much as anywhere. Soon, Dimitri will visit Almyra himself on a diplomatic visit. He has already promised Claude they would keep in touch. 

In turn, Dimitri tells her about the proposals he’s been working through, the treaties and intricacies of kinghood that drive him up the wall and make him question himself more each week. He also tells her about the good, about the orphanages he’s visited and his friends who run them, about his reconciliation with Felix and his joy over watching Dedue live for himself. 

And Sylvain.

Shyly, after they’ve eaten, Dimitri finds it impossible to stave the urge to ask Marianne - “does Hilda… have terms of endearment for you?”

Marianne blinks, her slight eyebrows furrowing. “Sometimes, yes. She’s always been the sort to use them, but she likes to call me by my name a lot too. She says… there’s something special about it.” 

“I see,” Dimitri says, looking down. “And… if I may inquire, do you… also have names for her?”

Marianne blushes. “S- sometimes I call her ‘dearest’ or ‘darling.’”

Dimitri stares at his empty plate, trying to figure out what he wants to say.

“Is there a reason you’re asking me?” Marianne prods, folds her hands quietly on the table. 

“Yes,” he sighs. “I’m… Sylvain is always calling me sweet names. I’m terrible at this sort of thing, but I’ve been wondering - wanting, I suppose - to reciprocate. But I do not know how. I haven’t the charm for it.”

Marianne bites her lip lightly, not nearly as hard as she used to. “Well, I’m sure if it’s from the heart he’ll think it’s sweet. He knows you, and that’s what’s most important. That’s why I can say those things to Hilda and she understands what I mean.”

Dimitri brightens at this before he frowns again. “But - I do not know what to call him. How would I even come up with a nickname for him?”

This is something Marianne struggles with herself, so she finds herself at a loss. She’s no good at these things. Hilda would be better.

Oh!

Hilda!

“Wait! Would you like to talk to Hilda? She can definitely help you!” Marianne squeezes her fists together in excitement. 

* * *

That is how Dimitri finds himself taking lunch with Hilda the next day. 

“So,” she drawls, not unkindly. “Pet names, huh? I can’t really come up with one for you, but I can definitely help you figure out what you think is best.”

Dimitri finds Hilda overwhelming. He truly likes her and is starting to consider her a friend, but Hilda is… very flamboyant, in a way that’s almost more aggressive than Sylvain’s brand, which he is used to. It’s not that she means it to be, but she’s very matter of fact when she isn’t trying to charm you. Sylvain is… not. Nevertheless, he finds himself nervous to be alone with her discussing pet names to call Sylvain. 

“Thank you for agreeing to assist me,” he says, meekly. He doesn’t mean to seem like a scared puppy. 

Hilda stares at him blankly for several moments, before her expression contorts into something sympathetic. 

“Just go with what feels natural in the moment. Try something that’s special, just between you and him. Even if it’s silly, he’ll understand. You’re a sweet boy. No matter what you think of yourself, you’re a charmer.”

Dimitri watches Hilda intensely while she speaks, hands folded together on the table, nodding somberly with each word she says. If he had paper with him - and damn him, he should have thought to bring some - he would be taking notes. Since he does not have paper, he must be studious without. “I see. Is there anything I should avoid?”

Hilda’s lips twitch. “Don’t say anything rude, I guess? Say what feels right? The thing is that it isn’t as deep as you think it is, not always, and you need to be able to relax, or there’s no point. Make sense?”

“Yes…” 

“You still look worried. What can I do?” Hilda’s voice is softer now. She’s very good at being serious when she absolutely has to be.

“Ah, well, would you perhaps,” he pauses. “Give me some examples? I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” she cries, standing up and leaning over the table. It would be very rude, really, if he didn’t know her. “Stop it! Hmph. Sure. Let’s see…”

She fiddles with something in her hands, shiny and blue. “Sweetheart, baby, sweetie, honey, the normal ones. Um, for  _ super _ cheesy, hm… snookums, puddin’ pie, muffin, baby cakes… stuff like that.”

“Hm…”

Dimitri thanks Hilda for her invaluable input and they eat together. She’s good company, and truly very sweet when she wants to be. Dimitri thanks her again before she goes back to her room, and she pulls out the shiny thing she held during lunch. It’s a darling little pendant, well made and smooth. It has little things that remind her of Dimitri encased in resin. Dimitri is able to hold back the tears that bubble in his eyes until she’s gone.

It was a fruitful meeting. 

Dimitri knows what he must do.

* * *

Later that week, Dimitri spars with Sylvain in the training grounds, having shooed off the knights and squires who wish to watch. Politely, of course. Normally he would let them watch their spar, but today he  _ must _ have privacy, or he will never be able to spit the words he must say out.

He is so nervous that Sylvain lands a blow he should not have landed. Dimitri falls to his knees, briefly winded. Sylvain looks at him from above, big brown eyes concerned. “Babe, are you okay?”

Sylvain reaches one of his armored hands out to pull Dimitri up. Dimitri takes his hand, mumbles, “Certainly. Thank you, snookums.”

Sylvain makes an odd expression. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said,” Dimitri has to look away now. He’s flushing horribly. “I am quite fine. And. Thank you. Snookums.”

“...Come again?”

Sylvain looks very worried now. His hands roam Dimitri’s arms and shoulders, brushing off dirt and looking all over Dimitri’s person with wrinkled, red brows. 

“Sylvain,” Dimitri almost whines. “I cannot bear much more of this. I said thank you snookums.”

“That can’t be…” Sylvain murmurs to himself. “Are you sure you’re okay, Dimitri?”

He’s so worried. It would be sweet if it weren’t making Dimitri feel like a terrible lover. 

“I am fine!” Except he feels like crying. That isn’t very kingly. But neither is Dimitri, at the end of the day. “I only - I only wished to call you something sweet like you do for me!”

Sylvain looks at him for a long time. Dimitri watches his expression change, his eyebrows pinch and relax, then pinch again when he settles on looking touched but saddened. 

“Dimitri. You don’t have to call me anything special. I know you love me.”

“But…” He doesn’t know where he’s going with that statement, so he doesn’t finish it.

“I call you pet names because that’s how I know to show how much I love you. You show me in other ways, sweetie. But you _ can _ call me whatever you want. I’m not upset. I was just surprised.”

“... You know, I spent all week trying to find a name. Hilda even helped me.”

Sylvain laughs fully, throwing his head back and the sweat on his neck glistens. A beautiful thing. “That’s why you spent so much time with her?”

“Yes.” Dimitri is so red right now, he knows it.

“And snookums is the one you liked?”

Dimitri burns even brighter. “It reminds me of… how pure my love for things was when I was younger. I do not know, it reminds me of the stuffed stag you gave me when we were children. It’s… soft. And warm.”

Sylvain wraps himself around Dimitri like a snake, clinging at his neck with his forehead pressed to Dimitri’s. His lips hover over Dimitri’s. “Baby, that’s so sweet. It’s perfect… You can call me that if you want. Really.”

Sylvain is blushing now, when he kisses Dimitri. It appears Dimitri has succeeded after all. 

* * *

That night, Sylvain is curled up on Dimitri’s bare chest, his arms wrapped around Dimitri’s abdomen. He’s almost asleep, smiling faintly where Dimitri can’t see him. 

Everything is warm.

Sylvain is barely conscious, so he almost thinks he’s begun to dream when he hears what Dimitri whispers. “You’re the love of my life, Sylvain.”

Sylvain is so tired, and so soft now. He wishes he had the wherewithal to properly attack Dimitri with kisses and sweet names like he will in the morning. But at the very least, before he sleeps…

“... Call me snookums,” he says. It’s a terrifying name, but Dimitri has made him like it. It’s pathetic, in Sylvain’s opinion, but he will be pathetic for Dimitri. 

Dimitri chuckles, his chest rumbling against Sylvain’s face. It’s relaxing. 

“You are the love of my life, snookums.”

**Author's Note:**

> @sylvainplath on twt


End file.
